Prologue ~ Forgotten Dawn
The
mighty Sun flung her golden rays across the land, and all that dwelled under
her azure cloak, seemed eager to welcome her. The gushing rivers shimmered in pride,
and the tall mountains reached out even further to embrace her. The lush
forests flourished – as if they had been granted a new breath of life – and
unhesitatingly, enveloped the in a carpet of greenery.
But the Moon remained in her corner, reluctant to fade into the brilliance of
Day. Night blanketed her, as it always would to protect her. And the flickering
Stars – being too shy to venture into the Realm of Light – continued to stay by
her side, cowering in fear of the glaring rays of Day's eye. The land was
barren where Night ruled, and the haunting winds that swept across the empty
grounds, wept silently for a dawn that ceased to arrive.
It couldn't seem more absurd to have these two figures in the Sky at once,
battling one another, each one too stubborn to give in to the other. Still,
there were those who found pleasure in this absurdity, those who found the
divided Sky to be an amusing sight. She was one – merely a child – yet with the
power to stand unshaken upon the boundary of Light and Shadow.
This child – despite her age – was already holding true to the essence of her
name: Immortality. For she was really the bird of Flame arisen from the ashes;
a new era built upon the ruins of the old. And although she would someday
perish in the fires, she was bound to emerge again, reborn with powers greater
than the mighty Sun from which she was born.
Her name… Phoenix.
-----
"Here is her daughter, as promised…"
The hooded figure raised her cloak, but only high enough to reveal a sleeping
child in her arms. She had cautiously kept her hood on, but as he reached out
for the small, curled-up body, his deep russet eyes met the cold blue ones of the
cloaked woman. He noted the caution in those eyes – the urgency – and at once,
he knew.
"My gratitude is yours…" His voiced trailed off as his trembling fingers
caressed the rosy cheeks of the child in deep slumber. Pale locks of hair
framed the child's tiny face, and on its face was an expression of serenity.
This child, young and innocent, she did not know – not of her cruel fate that
stained her past.
"Keep her safe…" The woman spoke again, her voice kept low. He did not hear her
for he was too lost in his own thoughts as he gazed at the beautiful child,
thinking of how much it resembled its mother. A dreamy smile crossed his
cracked lips, but that smile melted away the instant the infant's mother came
into mind, and he snapped out of his thoughts, returning to reality's dark
gloom.
"Her mother… The child's mother… How is she?" He tried to sound as least
desperate as possible, but his voice was shaky – tainted with hidden sorrow.
The woman kept her silence this time. She shook her head slowly, raising a
finger to her own lips, before pressing it to his. It was as if she was trying
to say that she would not speak a word of it, and she wished that he would do
the same. He did as he was signalled to, but despite
his silence, his soul was screaming, writhing in agony deep inside.
"What… What about the others…?" He asked again, his voice suddenly hoarse, and
shakier than ever.
The cloaked woman seemed to hesitate, taking longer than usual to answer the
question.
"The others. They…" She took a quick glance around,
although she knew perfectly well that the tall trees of the forest were their
only companions. "They are in good hands."
He nodded slowly; satisfied with her answer. The child stirred again, and he
drew it closer under his cloak to keep it warm.
"Then I must go now…"
The first rays of morning were now filtering through the branches that hovered
over their heads, casting eerie, spidery shadows upon the ground. He could
sense her anxiousness intensifying, and her eagerness to leave the place
quickly. There was danger lurking around; ears listened from unseen hollows,
and eyes were sharp even in the darkest shadows.
She turned around, and began walking away as the tall, green-haired man stood
rooted to the ground.
"Sin?" The woman stopped in her tracks, several yards
away when he called her name.
"Take care…"
"You too, Anshar…"
Her voice echoed, dissolving into the cold morning air as she too, vanished out
of sight.
------
Too long has my slumber these past moons been restless…
The Sun hovered above in the Heavens, smiling down proudly at those below her.
There were none to oppose her, now that Day alone ruled the Sky. The land would
no longer be barren, for she would warm the blowing winds, and richen the earth
with her golden gaze.
The Moon… Where is she?
Neither the Moon, nor her faithful companion, appeared to be anywhere in sight.
Even the tiny Stars, being too rash to flee the Sun, had faltered, and plunged
into the Lake below. But the Moon had not slipped away tracelessly – where Night lay, trails of red streaked the
Sky, growing fainter as Day reached for the horizon.
There has been bloodshed…
In the echoing Silence, eight pillars stood in the shallow Lake, guarded by the thick
perimeter of woods that fenced the garden. The air was silent, but not still,
for the spirits of the Wind tumbled across the Lake's surface, whispering
and murmuring to one another in a tongue that few ears recognised.
…The First has Wings frozen and cold…
The tallest pillar was one made of ice, its crystal-like exterior shimmering in
the pale rays of the Sun.
…The Second struggles in chains of gold…
Standing next to the pillar of ice was one made of silvery metal, and that
pillar had chains binding it – thick, heavy chains of precious gold.
…The Third is Fire with Eyes blinded…
Upon the third pillar was a statue of a winged child – an angel – her eyes
blindfolded and her limbs chained. Red flames licked at her feet mercilessly
like fiery serpents.
…The Fourth lies and forgets in the depths of the wild…
The fourth pillar was a carving of a dragon, a majestic creature reaching up
for the Heavens. Its wooden body was hardly visible, for it had been densely
blanketed in moss and ivy.
…The Fifth hesitates to dwell in Shadow…
Facing the icy pillar, an ebony black tower stood erect, partly hidden by the
ghostly shadows cast over by the trees in the background.
…The Sixth lies embedded in Stone…
The sixth pillar had ancient runes carved into its stony surface. A sword – its
hilt encrusted with glittering jewels – had its blade sunken deep into that
pillar.
…The Seventh drowns in deep Oceans…
The seventh pillar was the one hardly standing, for its base had crumbled, and
all left of it was scattered slabs of stone lying submerged in the waters of
the Lake.
…The Eight is lost in Time's maze…
The eighth and final pillar appeared to be anything but solid. It looked more
like a swirl of shadows trapped in a web of white mist, and seemed more
ethereal compared to the other pillars in the circle.
…It is Time to awaken…
This garden had remained undisturbed for aeons. Time
had never passed here, and never will. The guardian woods bear witness to this;
the trees never grow, nor falter in these sacred grounds. The snow upon the
gnarled branches never melts, and decay never devours the fallen leaves of the
trees. The radiance of the golden silk draping the trees never dims, and
continues to bathe the everlasting blossoms in its soothing glow.
…Reflections do not lie…
No ripple dared touch the glassy surface of the Lake, thus calm were the
waters kept. It was almost mirror-like, yet if any being should bend over, and
gaze at its reflection, it would see nothing, but the cracked bed of the Lake underneath all that
clear liquid. There was, however one image that the Lake could not refuse to
reflect, and it was that of the Sky above.
…Remember the forgotten dawn…
A crescent Moon, not the golden Sun, shone on the surface of the Lake. There was no
reflection of Day, for that new Moon was obviously lingering at the time of
young Dawn. The Stars were again by the Moon's side, always faithful, even out
of Night's embrace. Treacherous grey clouds, though absent in the blue Sky
above, haunted the image on the Lake, almost determined to
suffocate all others that dwelled in the reflection.
…Do not flee, for Hope still survives…
There was a door in a distance, made almost invisible by the grotesque shadows
cast of the greying trees. A brass key, worn out by
time, settled in its hole in the rusted door.
…It is Time to awaken…
That escape, seemed so close, yet so out of reach.
…It is Time to awaken, Dreamer!